Liberties Taken
by cheshireSorrows
Summary: Compromising someone both creates and fixes problems. Darcy is convinced. Elizabeth, not so much. An Emma-esque kind of tale with regency liberties.
1. Chapter 1

**ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO INFRINGEMENT INTENDED.**

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Liberties Taken

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Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man with an astoundingly impressive reputation – heir to a great estate, nephew of an earl, and as single and unattached as the day he was born. The _Ton _was familiar with men of his stature.

Elizabeth Bennet had one up on them however, for though she recognized the generalization of such men, she knew him intimately.

"Mr. Darcy," she greeted her voice high, "I daresay, I did not expect to see you here." Faking a trip, she fell into his arms and said, the back of her hand to her temple, "Oh my, it is quite hot in here, is not it? Forgive my delicate ladylike habit of swooning."

"Amusing yourself, I see."

She continued her charade, "And her personal maid enters: 'Oh my dearest heart, married to Mr. Darcy my lady will be!'" still maintaining her stance, she opened an eye and winked. "Just reminding you of your most recent exploit. How quickly news travels when a servant is the witness." She plopped down on the divan, righting her skirts and smiling innocently.

"The walls have ears," he agreed, rolling his eyes. "Glad you are making yourself at home, Elizabeth."

"It is soon to be Miss Bennet actually," she informed with a prim hauteur.

"Yes, forgive me – a little bird told me of the engagement, congratulations are in order."

"Yes, a little bird that practically blew your door down once my sister said yes." Her suppressed laughter pulled at her lips as her eyes danced. "I suppose I am not sharing his company with you for that reason?"

His lips twitched. "Bingley is making arrangements, and I did not have the energy to participate in his joy."

"Shocking," she mocked, unsurprised.

As he walked around his desk, he offered, "Tea?"

"Not at all, unlike last night, this morning is stifling."

"It cannot be that bad, you chose to walk," he pointed out. When she said nothing, he glanced at her from across the room with a slight smirk. "I can see the dried mud on your petticoats."

"Six inches deep, would you believe?" She grinned.

He shook his head with a chuckle.

Under normal conditions he would not even think to engage with a lady in such a manner; however, their being acquainted since childhood made it difficult to behave differently. His father and hers were close friends while at Cambridge, and their ancestral estates which bordered each other. The children of both families practically grew up in both estates leading to their children's long friendship and the inevitable expectation of a marriage between the two families.

Though her family was not as rich or connected as his, they were favored by most and the daughter they anticipated he would marry was kind, gentle and a classic beauty.

However with Jane's impending marriage to someone else (a man with New Money, scandalous really!) the competition among the _Ton_ to entrap the heir of Pemberley began and intensified with every social obligation he had to fulfill.

"They are driving me mad," he complained, taking the seat across from her. "If I get compromised one more time, my father will make me marry the next one."

"Now you are just being dramatic."

Mr. Darcy Senior, despite choosing to be a recluse when he retired (his heir was certainly old enough to take charge, and if he wanted to stay at home and spend the days taking naps and fishing, he would bloody well do it) refused to have his family name slandered in any way. For all his good humor, he was adamant that his only son was not getting any younger, what was wrong with being marched down the aisle? (That did not stop his father from making the messes disappear, in any case.)

"It is the fourth time in a week."

"Try not to sound too disappointed," she teased, "it has not been that long since Jane has been removed from your notice with her engagement. There will be more eventually, and then you will rival even the Prince Regent."

He groaned, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You are being dramatic," she repeated, more soothing this time as he mumbled into his hands. She sighed, rolling her eyes. "If you offered for Jane like you should have a long time ago, you would not be in this situation, you know."

"You are starting to sound like your mother."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Better my mother than Miss Bramsfield." Hearing her stand, he peeked between his fingers and saw her move closer before he felt her hands rest on his shoulders.

She made her voice forcibly low and gravelly. "Oh but Mr. Darcy, you look so very exhausted, shall I assist you?" His lips twitched. Miss Morrison – his third would-be compromised bride.

"So long as you do not drag me onto your lap and act surprised about how I got there," he answered flatly, eliciting a laugh as she gently rubbed his shoulders.

For a moment, she simply eased the tension behind his neck before he realized his forehead was hovering dangerously close to her stomach as she stood before him. Hardly an innocent act by any means, and it certainly did not help that he was quite happy to be there.

But that was a dangerous thought.

As he was about to lift his head, she stopped her ministrations and ruffled his hair, carelessly affectionate. "Calm yourself, it is just me. You know I would not think of compromising you."

He hoped his sigh sounded more relieved than disappointed.

Pushing at his shoulder gently for him to lean back, she came to sit on the armrest of his chair and resumed her previous actions.

Darcy tried to ignore her close proximity and the way her warmth and smell was prickling his skin; certainly, she would think nothing of it. They had always been a close pair - in fact, his father was convinced from the start that he would marry Elizabeth and not her sister. Speaking of her sister… "When are they getting married?"

"Six months mayhap a year. Mother wants a long engagement in order to prepare, and to throw as many parties to show off the rest of her unmarried flock." She snorted. "You would think that after her youngest ran off with a soldier, having a single daughter would be the least of her concerns."

"You could have been married too – that Collins man asked for you, if Bingley is to be believed." He had wanted to beat the man when he found out (Collins, not Bingley).

"Yes, but he is a pompous fool. I would have killed him within the first week," she waved off. "My fast approaching spinsterhood is not the problem. Your bachelorhood is in danger – come, you must have thought of a way to preserve it."

"I would have thought you would take advantage of it."

Incredulous, she asked, "Me?"

"You need a husband, or spinsterhood beckons."

"Spinsterhood is not so terrible a choice. My family is hardly in any financial constraints that would make me a danger to their livelihoods. But as I said, my spinsterhood is but a shadow to the convenience of marriage your life seems to be heading towards."

"Convenience," he repeated turning his head to look at her, "who said anything of convenience?"

"Certainly, you would have to – with the way the _Ton _is clamoring for your marital bliss." Her countenance was open, amused as always if not a bit cynical in the way her brows and lips twitched out of the arch expression. "Though there would be no need for convenience if you had someone already. Honestly Darcy, how someone like you remained single all this time is a great mystery indeed."

"And why, pray tell, is that?"

"If you think I shall flatter you to make you feel better about yourself, you will be horribly disappointed."

"Truly, your teasing eludes me," he declared, resting his hand atop the armrest she sat on, his sleeve covered arm brushing against her skirts.

"You should listen more," she remarked, "Everyone mentions it every time you leave your house." Clearing her throat, Elizabeth mimicked, "'Oh that's Mr. Darcy! Yes, the heir to Pemberley. He is very handsome, and he is worth well over ten thousand a year – did you know that he is also related to Lord Matlock? Indeed, indeed, a fine match he would be!'"

Amused, he declared, "You have been spending too much time in the parlors – I almost thought that my inheritance, fortune and connections were all that were attractive about me."

"Did I not mention you were handsome?"

"You think vanity will appease me? Oh how you wound me…"

Smacking him lightly on the shoulder, his companion huffed. "Fine, you shall get no more pity from me."

"Good, you know I live for your scathing criticism dearest."

"And that, darling Darcy, is what matrimony is all about."

From then they were silent, enjoying the companionship of their close friendship, with the slight discomfiture of having Darcy stare at her.

His eyes were narrowed in thought, calculated and attentive at once. He always had an intense way of looking at people, like you were a subject he regularly thought about and he was reacquainting parts of you he remembered from the last. Elizabeth was used to these kinds of stares.

Not that she minded of course.

Her childhood friend had always been considered handsome like Jane. Really, they would have made a splendid match if they felt more strongly for each other.

"Do you want to get married?"

She blinked, and her movements stilled. "Me?"

"Yes."

Another silence lapsed, different then the last – contemplative, and curious before she informed him, "If this is a proposal, it is a terrible one."

"Regardless of that then, would you marry me?"

"I do not want to get married."

"Not even to me?"

"Certainly not to you."

At the subtle drop in his expression, she told him, "You and I would not make a very good married pair."

He was, as usual, inclined to disagree, "How so? I think being married to you would be delightful."

"You are talking through the shackles dearest, perhaps I shall reconsider for that alone."

"Would it be so bad?"

Her sigh sounded like a huff. "We would argue about everything: books, plays, social events, our families -"

"I quite like arguing with you. You actually have an opinion."

"Everyone has an opinion."

"An intelligent one then," he allowed, his quirked brows challenging, the sight causing his companion to roll her eyes.

"You are insufferable."

"You love me anyway."

Silence.

"Fine," she conceded, "but you are going to court me."

"Court you," he repeated, "they have already started compromising me! I might not even make it to our wedding."

"More fun for the both of us then, well at least for me." She flashed him a smile. "You shall be expected to buy apology presents for your lack of discretion."

He pretended to sulk. "I knew you just wanted me for my fortune."

"Your proposal left a lot to be desired; in fact, it was awful. This is your punishment."

"And being married to me will be yours," he declared, pulling her gently down to him so their lips touched for the briefest of seconds.

It was then that the door opened, a gasp followed, and the voice of a scandalized maid rang through the library, "Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet!"

He knew this would happen.

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**A/n: **Special thanks to the betas and the cold readers for helping me get this chapter up –

SuddenlySingle (Ruerda), LyDarcy and Tremu (Lizette)


	2. Chapter 2

Recap: Tired of being the butt of compromising attempts, Darcy takes charge, and compromises Elizabeth to the horror of a passing maid.

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Liberties Taken

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It was all a mess really.

Perhaps it was her "country" manners, but when the public had become more or less aware of their "compromised" engagement, Elizabeth had expected to be shunned and snubbed wherever she went.

Isolated as she was in the wildness of the North in a relatively small town, she was raised on what Miss Bingley disdained as the stricter manners of etiquette as a result of being confined to smaller circles of intimacy.

In a perfect world, no lady in her right mind would ever think that compromising a prospective husband would be a good idea, raised in the country or otherwise.

Then again, in a town where the variety of families one came into contact with varied from thirty to a hundred, it made it terribly easy to hide in the crowd, so to speak.

More than one lady had entrapped her husband, more than one couple had been compromised to marriage, and more than one couple had done a number of things against propriety and their vows to God; yet most were still viewed as respectable. If she had been "compromised" to marriage by any other man, it would hardly be a scandal, barely anything more than a passing comment in a parlor.

But Mr. Darcy was not any other man.

The dressmaker and her assistants flitted around her like butterflies, but noisier…and rougher.

Abruptly, she was tugged about as a young girl took her measurements while another was comparing material against her skin, complimenting her as they worked.

"Honestly, we are here for Jane, not me**.** For goodness' sake, what is the matter with everyone?"

"Is something bothering you, sweeting?"

"Jane," she whined, "call them away; you are the one that needs a dress, not me!"

"But you have to look just as good," her sister teased.

"And outshine you? I would never dream of it," she retorted, waving everyone away, only to have the tugging and pulling begin with renewed vigor. "I am not a doll," she snapped.

"Lizzy," Jane soothed from across the room, being helped by a single girl instead of the three that were poking at her.

"I apologize," she managed, sighing as she noted her less than stellar behavior and the embarrassment she was causing her sister, before nodding at the girls to continue.

"I know it has not been easy these past few days."

"Yes, getting compromised does absolute wonders for one's mental health."

"It certainly did wonders for mama's," her sister said with a laugh**.** Unbothered by another girl that came around her with materials and colors in hand, she chose one almost carelessly and continued to twirl about, graceful as ever.

As their mother's favorite, Jane always got new dresses for every occasion – ball, assembly, supper with this or that family, Sunday service – rain or shine. Lord knows their papa was more than happy to give her away**. **With Lydia also gone**,** his economy would certainly be improved by the loss.

"Has she finally stopped having card parties under the guise of rubbing our impending nuptials in our neighbors' faces?"

"If you would care to visit, you would know," was the reply as Jane looked over her shoulder and winked. "When will my future brother return you to us? I do not recall you staying as long as this in London besides for your Masters .I think papa was more than willing to let me travel to town so long as I returned with you, wedding clothes or not."

"Was mother desolate about being barred from the occasion?"

"Afraid so, papa was worried you would never come back to Longbourn. Mama is just as insistent that you return."

"It is not the first time I have stayed at Darcy's house without them; as I recall, she absolutely refused my staying with the Gardiners at Gracechurch Street," she reminded Jane.

"Yes, but that was before you got engaged." With a deceptively innocent smile, Jane added, "And I never said anything about them having a problem with you staying at Darcy House."

With a flush that spread across her décolleté, Elizabeth brushed this off. "When we were children. we stayed at each other's properties in between the holidays from boarding school. Why, you remember do you not, you used to always insist on playing house and making Darcy and I your children whenever we were together!"

"Yes, and now it seems you are both playing without me," she lamented teasingly. "So how is it playing house with Darcy?"

"Sister of mine, I am starting to think you are enjoying my misfortune."

"Misfortune? You are to marry one of the richest men in all of England! He is connected, has a beautiful estate, and is in possession of all his wits- what misfortune is that?"

"You are starting to sound like the society mothers, Jane," her sibling rebuked.

"I will be one soon enough," she returned with a wink, "it is a wonder indeed why they have accepted the loss of their quarry so quickly."

"Perhaps it is because I have been so unrelentingly miserable about it," she suggested, turning uncertainly as the girls continued to move about her with measuring tapes and material.

"Perhaps."

Though Jane had relented for the moment, once they were assisted back into their day dresses, she continued her assault, "You still have not told me."

"Told you what?"

"So obtuse," she accused as they made their way out of the dressmaker's shop and onto the pavements as they walked to their next destination. "What is it like staying with Mr. Darcy now that the two of you are engaged?"

"Courting," Elizabeth corrected, "and to rid you of any otherwise sinful imaginings you may have entertained, it is nothing special."

The look that was sent her way was disbelieving, and she groaned. "You do not honestly believe we are in love, do you?"

"He proposed**,** did he not? You have always said you would not accept anything less than love when you marry."

"There are many types of love."

"And what is the one you feel for Mr. Darcy?"

"Familial." At that, her sister snorted in an unladylike fashion, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Careful**,** sweeting, you are starting to pick up Lydia's habits."

"Can you blame me? Would you marry your brother?"

"Of course not!"

"Then?"

"He is like a cousin," she decided as they weaved their way through the crowds, "he would never mistreat me and would be considerate and gracious always."

"Have you ever thought he would not?" Jane ventured.

"Why does everyone think Darcy is so disgustingly perfect? Perhaps he snores so loud I am able to hear him across the distance of the estate, hardly considerate or gracious of him at all. And depriving me of my sleep? How terrible!"

Amused, she asked, "And does he?"

"No, but that was just an example!"

"So he does not?"

"You should be aware of his habits by now; you have known him as long as I have."

"Not as well as you," was the response, before Jane laughed. "Do try harder to destroy his mythical perfection, I insist."

"I know you are teasing me, but I shall comply for that alone." Entering a teashop, the sisters seated themselves and waited to be served, ignoring the sudden silence in the establishment before Elizabeth supplied, "He is proud."

"He has good reason to be," Jane said, her serene expression giving her sister something to focus on other than the whispers that were starting to stir.

"But that does not absolve him of it."

A young girl approached, offered the day's specials of tea and cake, and then went on her way with their requests.

Jane continued patiently, "Surely that is not all?"

"Of course not, he is conceited."

"How so?"

"He thinks that just because he is Fitzwilliam Darcy of this estate with this annum and this uncle, that everyone must be in want of his attentions."

"Perhaps I would have an easier time believing you if this were not the same Fitzwilliam Darcy running _away _from these attentions."

"He still expects the treatment – for others to fawn and fall over themselves for him. I have it that he thinks he is rather above the society anywhere."

"I am sure you have humbled him thoroughly enough with your friendship."

"If that were the case he would not be so difficult to convince to go anywhere. Before this whole business he was adamant in refusing invitation after invitation simply because this family was that or that family was this."

"Strange, is he not usually caught up in business? Is that not why he comes to London?"

With a huff, Elizabeth demanded, "Will you be his champion the entire time, Jane?"

"Well someone has to defend him from these gross accusations," she answered, "Mr. Darcy has hardly ever gone against decorum and good manners, those exceptions being his run-ins since my engagement to Mr. Bingley, and your engagement of course."

"Since I am quite sure Darcy was simply bowing to the whims of his father and ours, I highly doubt the last was any decision of his."

It was then that the lady across from her sighed. "Why must you think so little of yourself?"

"Regardless," Elizabeth dismissed, "I am insulted I was not asked my opinion in the scheme; at the very least the both of us could have been given the opportunity to find someone else. They shall have my whole life planned out for me without my consent and I shall have little choice but to go along with it. Darcy, honorable to a fault, will do as everyone else wishes of him. Unfortunately there was little reason to refuse him, his mind seemed reasonably set."

"Oh Lizzy, I am sure that is not the case. At the very least you shall have a say in your wedding clothes," Jane comforted, patting her hand.

"Knowing Darcy, we will elope to Scotland."

"So you can get married in your day dress? Mother would be in tatters!"

"I think it would be more fitting, do you not think?" She laughed. "I have already been compromised, what is an elopement to add to my ruined reputation?"

It was then that the girl returned with their cakes and tea, catching what she needed in the conversation to gasp. "Oh no Miss, you must not elope, your gentleman is Mr. Darcy, yes? Of course it is, you are Miss Elizabeth Bennet, are you not? You cannot elope! He will commission for the finest dress, everyone still talks of the clothes his mother wore at her wedding, and I -"

The flutter of whispers and stares their way raised in volume and magnitude - the attention all from the girl's exclamations, until suddenly everything grew as silent as a grave.

Behind her, a hulking figure cleared his throat.

Bursting with apologies, the girl scurried away quickly.

"I hope you were paying attention to that sir," Elizabeth said, in the hush that filled the teahouse.

"I was," he bowed. "It is best we comply with the young lady's wish."

Point unintentionally proven, his intended gave her sister a smirk before flashing a cheeky grin, impish and impudent as always, "I admit I am quite disappointed, Mr. Darcy. I was looking forward to getting married in my day dress. I hear Gretna Green is lovely this time of year."

He chuckled. "I am at your disposal**,** dearest."

At the teasing brow of Jane across from her, Elizabeth conceded, "For all your faults, Darcy, you shall make a good husband."

"It makes me wonder if you have been firm in deciding otherwise."

"Oh no, I have the highest hopes." She winked and despite her usual teasing, the high colour on his cheeks was not the trick of the light.

"Lizzy," Jane scolded, though her lips quirked in a smile, "you cannot tease him so. What if one day he believes you?"

"Then I shall do my wifely duty and maintain the illusion, he is never happy unless I am teasing him."

"The unfortunate reality of my attraction to her," Mr. Darcy claimed getting her to laugh.

**A/N:** Once again, special thanks to my cold readers and betas: SuddenlySingle (Ruerda), LyDarcy and Tremu (Lizette)

For those who have an account at A Happy Assembly, this story is available there as well though the updates are later as I can't edit the posts once they're online.

Thanks again to the wonderful reviewers of the previous chapter and the people who placed this story under follow and favorite alerts because it makes me so insanely happy to have an inbox filled with fanfiction mail

Happy Christmas and an amazing 2015 to everyone!


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